Katsi smiled at Migo’s enthusiasm. She hadn’t ever seen him so excited about anything.
He glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’m sure I sound like a child.”
“No.” Katsi shook her head, looking back up at the stars as that sense of awe still lingered in her chest. “Not at all. You have reason to be excited. I never truly understood how beautiful they were until now. It really expands my understanding of what you told me about them before—How insignificant we are compared to all that is out there, yet still so important to those who love us. To think that seeing a star was so rare before, but now everyone will get the opportunity.”
“Things that were inaccessible before are now available,” Migo said.
Katsi was deeply aware that instead of returning his hand to the back of his head, Migo had laid it beside him, right next to her own. She could practically feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his breath. Her ears burned as her heart pounded within her chest. She moved her hand ever so slightly as Migo moved his, their skin touching at the knuckles. Chills went up her arm as he slid a finger over hers, and for a moment, she felt as though she was falling, falling toward the stars as they expanded around her.
The door on the roof banged open. “This will offer the best view,” a man’s voice said as a few pairs of feet stomped out onto the castle roof.
Migo whipped his hand away and rose to his feet before the group of spectators could spot them.
But Katsi remained where she was, lying on the roof, heart pounding in her ears, nerves still tingling at the soft touch of Migo’s skin.
Sands. Sanding stars. Sanding Migo.
“I should get some sleep,” she said, floating up to her feet with the help of a little magic.
Migo opened his mouth as if to say something, but then only nodded.
Katsi burst into the sky, only too eager to be free of the sensation writhing in her stomach.
Chapter twenty
Courting
Hatan slumped in the chair of his office beside the throne room of Rikaydian Palace. Flickering candlelight provided the only illumination as he rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wipe away the weariness settling into his bones.
Candles were scarce. Nobody had been prepared for the world to descend into darkness. Night. It was a time when their ancestors would sleep so they could spend their waking hours in the daylight. So much was bound to change. He could only wonder what miracle had occurred to return the planet to its former pattern. Hopefully it was a good omen and not a bad one.
He’d only just managed to break away from Agwe. Her absolute outrage regarding what to do with the gorey ruination of the entry hall was enough to make him regret opposing Vitori at all. He’d far outweighed any mess Migo had ever made, earning him the most scathing critique regarding fighting inside the palace rather than out in the courtyard.
He knew there were plenty of things to attend to, but all of that could be addressed tomorrow. What he really needed now was a warm bowl of—a knock came at his office door.
“Lord?” Rivar’s voice called from outside. He and Emil had refused to leave his side since the battle after everyone gawked at the setting sun.
“Yes, Rivar?”
“Lady Jenali has come to see you.”
“Oh, let her in,” Hatan said, sitting up straight, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t look too haggard.
Rivar entered the room, allowing Sinteya to come in, one hand holding a steaming bowl of soup, the other a large mug.
All the tension in Hatan’s chest came out in a hearty laugh. “Lady Jenali, I do certainly hope you brought that for me.”
Sinteya clicked her tongue. “I wouldn’t dare eat in front of a starving, soon-to-be sovereign. And please, call me Sinteya. I thought we were long past that, Hatan.”
Hatan shook his head. He certainly hadn’t forgotten her forward behavior. “Very well,” he said, smiling at the bowl of soup she placed before him.
“Water,” she said, placing the mug down beside the bowl.
“I appreciate your assistance.” He glanced up at Rivar, but the warrior had stepped outside, leaving the door open a handwidth.
“Anybody can fetch food, Hatan,” she said, “but I did notice your staff seemed more concerned with the dead than they were with the living. I’m sorry to see you in such a state. Imprisonment certainly contributed to a level of emaciation.”
Hatan laughed. “I agree, it does not have the best accommodations, but I was referring to your assistance in the battle. You know how to wield a spear. How is your injury?”
She held her arm to the candlelight, revealing a wrapped bandage. “It will mend as long as I keep it clean.” She grabbed his arm. “Speaking of keeping it clean, how’s your wound?”
“Oh, right,” Hatan said, trying to look at his elbow. Now that she pointed it out, it did hurt more than he remembered, and a bit of blood had even gotten on the desk in front of him as he’d leaned on it. That jab to his elbow dealt more damage than he’d thought.
“You’ve grown too familiar with pain,” Sinteya said, withdrawing a cloth from somewhere within her dress.
“I am a warrior, first and foremost.”
“Soon to be a king,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“Indeed.” And she was to thank for that, if it was gratitude he felt at all.
“You must come to experience other sensations in life.” She dabbed at the blood. “Such as kindness, tenderness.” Her eyes flicked to his. “Love.” She paused to pour water across the wound. “Else how should you evade the follies of the queen?”
“By not growing bitter from the death of loved ones or thinking they loved a shaman instead I suppose.”
“Ah, sensibility. Another useful element.” She wrapped his elbow with another cloth.
“You came prepared.”
